I sang on Cedar Mountain,
I rejoiced beneath the sky,
ran in glee on the grassy peak,
like an eagle, soon to fly.
I called the name of Enki
from old Sumerian stone,
saw the bright necklace of Ishtar,
who shine in the sky alone.
Enki built a submarine,
made from bended substance strange,
black bars and ordinary wood,
submerged from sight, out of range.
Wise god Enki in his boat,
built without windows or doors,
sailed far, deep beneath the ocean,
till he came to other shores.
There his own people landed,
children to whom he was king,
of the first civilizations,
to new lands he them did bring.
He taught them to build spacecraft,
pyramids of golden stone,
then, his helmet on, he lifted,
mounted to the stars, alone.
From his ziggurat platform,
inside his black starship bright,
tall in his eagle winged helmet,
free in his soul, born for flight.
The ziggurat of Enki
in the city centre square,
his people built in his honour,
like in Eridu and Ur.
Sumerian stone tablet
told tales of Enki the wise,
spoken by a poet prophet,
master of what floats and flies.
I rose up from Cedar Mountain
inside my own spaceship wheel,
went wandering, like Gilgamesh,
with the sky beneath my heel.
The ocean king, Oannes,
from his pearly palace floor,
once brought wisdom unto Sumer,
legged up and spoke on the shore.
He gave them his instructions,
he taught them all he knew,
from his holy laws and pattern,
a civilization grew.